


The Dark Meets Dark

by Pervymonk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Assassian! Kylo Ren, But I have ideas, College kid! Rey, F/M, Idk where I may go with this, Kidnapping, Lite! Darkfic, Maybe - Freeform, Modern AU, Past Child Abuse, Political Intrigue, Possessive Ben Solo, Sexual Coercion, Stalking, These things are not okay, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22452352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pervymonk/pseuds/Pervymonk
Summary: Rey keeps to herself-she goes to class, works in the tutoring center and doesn't miss her appointments with her psychologist. No one else knows about her past, or that she's a dirty secret her senator father works to keep hidden.Kylo's been following her as part of his job-watch the senator's illegitimate daughter that he gave up, then take her when the time is right to apply pressure. The only problem is, Kylo is trained to kill, not care. And he cares for Rey with a fascination that pulls him even further into darkness.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	1. Kylo: Enter Rey

**Author's Note:**

> So this started off as an original work that I quit vibing with so I completely rearranged the original. However, I had like 50 pages I'd already written and wanted to do something with them. I decided to adapt what I had to be a Reylo fic since I've wanted to get into this fandom. I have some ideas on where to go, but most of it is going to be me bullshitting and writing as I go along. 
> 
> I don't consider this some of my best stuff, more like practice stuff to improve at writing? But hopefully some people like it! 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS (which I will also mark in the appropriate chapters):  
> -NOTE: Both Rey and Kylo are unreliable narrators   
> -Childhood abuse (I imply in one of the chapters that Unkar may have either sexually assaulted Rey or was complicit in the act when she was a teen. This may later on be referenced.  
> -DUBIOUS AND NON CONSENT-Rey and Kylo's relationship has a major power imbalance, and Kylo does not go about it the right way at all! (First, don't kidnap people, and Kylo is like well failed step one.) Some of the scenes will read as Rey "consenting" because she wants to escape, or wants to placate Kylo-This is coercion and not true consent!  
> -This might not have a happily ever after ending. I need to decide on that still.  
> -I'm not planning on getting super dark but I might-again, I'll mark the appropriate chapters  
> -If anything else comes up that needs a warning, I'll add it to the tags and mark the appropriate chapter.

**Kylo**

6:31 am 

She’s feeding the animals again.

She knows she isn’t supposed to; it’s against the rules of her dorm. But she does it anyway. That’s one of the things I like about her-she’s a rule breaker. She  cooes at the stray cats and one dog. Some of the feral cats will even let her pet them from time to time. She has a light inside of her that can calm even the most feral of beasts. 

That light is what called me to her. 

She was just a job at first; some illegitimate child of some mid - rate politician who made someone angry. I’ve been watching her for months; far longer than any of my other contracts. It was a job, and it paid well, and I didn’t have to kill anyone. Her father’s campaign is in full swing, so it’s almost time to take her.

My stomach turns at the thought of using her as leverage, but she’ll be safer with me than with anyone else. 

She pets the animals vying for her attention before standing. She slings her canvas messenger bag over her shoulder, laughing at the cat who still paws at her leg. She bends down to pet it once, as if she couldn’t resist, before putting in her headphones and walking off at a brisk pace. 

I follow closely behind, catching the notes of her playlist; it sounds like The Mountain Goats, later mixed with Koko Taylor. I glance at my watch, biting back a smile. 6:57 am, time for coffee. 

Like clockwork,  she goes inside the small coffee shop, pulling the earbuds from her ears. 

“Hey, Maz!” she calls. A grunt acknowledging her arrival sounds from the back. She walks up to the counter and orders her usual-a mocha frappacuno, no breakfast. I frown-she hardly ever eats in the morning. It’s a bad habit I’ll have to help her break. I bite my lip to keep from mouthing along with her order. 

She plops down at her usual couch, sighing as she sinks into the cushions. S h e glances at her phone. I take the seat in the far corner with my usual-black coffee-and pull my phone out as well. 

The mirroring app I put on her phone works like a charm. 

‘You up yet?’ she texts. I briefly glance at the name, lips curling in disgust. Finn. She’s been spending an awful amount of time with that male classmate of hers. Finn was far from quiet or mousy, but he brightened nonetheless whenever my Rey was in the room. He spent most of the time between their classes talking to her. 

Even though it is before eight in the morning, Finn answers back quickly. I sip my coffee through pursued lips as I follow their exchange. 

-Jesus, Rey. It’s so early :C 

-You need to be awake anyway. We have class @ 8

He sends a sick emoji back, and I watch as Rey rolls her eyes. My girl is always so studious; I can’t wait to teach her how to relax. 

-Did you do the readings? 

-u  kno I didn’t 

At this, Rey’s brow furrows adorably. She rolls her eyes and takes an impatient sip of her coffee. I allow myself three seconds of uninterrupted staring before tearing my gaze away from her. 

-Did u hear about Kaydel’s thing? 

-Another party? 

-No. She wants 2 take everyone 2 that new bar. U r  invitied , if u want to come with

Rey tilts her head at that and, with a thrill, I know what she is thinking. Her doctor told her to try and be more social; she’s listed as avoidant in her file. She’s trying to decide if it’ll be worth the hassle. 

I shift in my seat, eyes fluttering between her and my phone. Rey kept to a regular schedule. She feeds the animals, gets coffee, and then goes to college from 8-3. She ate lunch, usually with Finn, before her afternoon classes. She would then work in the tutoring center from 3:30-8:30. She was usually back in her student dorm by 8:45 and in bed by 10. She didn’t always sleep, but would always fight to make sleep come to her. 

She’s a fighter: I both relish and abhor that.

On Fridays, she saw Dr.  Holdo , usually in the afternoon. Though my Rey spent most of her time keeping to herself, she was always in the company of others. She always kept to a rigid schedule. 

-Yeah, ok. Sounds like fun. 

I smile behind the rim of my coffee cu p . This deviation in her routine  excites me;  its another chance to know her .  I watch as they make plans to meet half an hour before the gathering. I make note of it, fighting to keep my excitement at bay. 


	2. Rey: A Treacherous Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey gets ready to socialize; it goes poorly

**Rey**

“I think it’s a good idea, Rey.” Of course, Dr. Holdo thinks it’s a good idea. That’s what I was hoping for. Part of my treatment plan involved being more social. She’s always suggesting I be more social, as if that could fix what ails me. Something something deep seated trauma, something  something avoidant tendencies. 

“I want to,” I lie. “But I don’t think  Kaydel likes me very much.” I end the last part on a mutter. Dr.  Holdo’s brow furrows, and I look away from her to the resident hastily scribbling  notes.His short brown hair bounces as he writes. He’s a student at my college-Poe  Dameron , I think his name is; we don’t really talk. I find it awkward that he is usually present at my sessions. I tug at the skirt I picked to wear to my appointment. It reached the middle of my thighs, and I felt uncomfortable in it. It’s cute, pleated and pink, but entirely too short for what I usually wore. Dr. Holdo, in one of our very first meetings, gave me the homework of wearing what she called ‘age appropriate clothing’. Long skirts, topped with long sleeves and jackets, wasn’t age appropriate.  _ You’re still so young, and you dress like you’re elderly, _ she’d said. I kind of hated her after that but she was good at her job. If shorter skirts and brighter colors would help me get better, I’d dress like a Picasso painting. 

I wanted to be better so badly. 

“I don’t think you’ve given  Kaydel a chance to know you,” she says. I keep my mouth shut-we’ve already discussed my  never ending fear of not being liked. Kaydel was different though-she didn’t like me because of my academics. She always competed with me in class, vying for the attention of our professors. 

It made me feel good when I could answer questions she couldn’t. I didn’t dislike her, I just knew she disliked me. 

“Use this as an opportunity to make friends,” she says. I watch Poe as Dr.  Holdo lists strategies to talk to people. He doesn’t make eye contact, and his pen never ceases moving. It makes me glad this session was about nothing more serious than my plans for tonight. He has definitely heard worse. I smile and nod at Dr. Holdo, wondering if the tutoring center will let me come into work tonight. 

I leave the office, pushing out of the sterilized air conditioning into the muggy heat outside. There’s a tension in the air that feels like rain; dark clouds are spattered overhead. I walk back to my dorm following a familiar path past bodegas and  boutiques . I pass an electronics store with TVs in the window. 

Senator Kenobi-Dad-is on the TV, showing one of his speeches. 

We weren’t close; we knew who the other was, and he sent me guilt money from time to time after I came of age. But I’d grown up with Unkar Plutt, my foster father, when he bothered to show up, and spent most of the time with Maz at her coffee shop. Maz had been loving but was forced to give me up whenever  Unkar showed up. 

I still had scars from my time with my foster father; Dr. Holdo could attest to that.

I shake my head, focusing my attention back on the screens. My reflection stares back at me, covering the image of my father. I didn’t agree with  all of his politics, but I liked to think that he wanted to make the world a better place. It was better to think positively, after all. 

Back at my dorm, I stare at my closet as if it were a dragon that needed slaying. I sigh, glancing down at the last text Finn sent. 

-Can’t wait to see u there, complete with a kiss emoji. 

I didn’t want to bail again, or disappoint Finn. Clubbing wasn’t really for me; neither was partying. I didn’t go out much, but I wanted to be around people. I longed for companionship and solitude in equal measure. 

I needed something to wear. I could always wear my doctor’ s appointment outfit;  short pink skirt, white stocking s, sheer and breezy blue button up blouse. I tug my skirt down, and it doesn’t even reach my knees. In a huff, I pull it down my legs and throw it across the room. I have a party dress, a sleeveless, dark thing that barely covered my thighs. It was beautiful, shining incandescent blues and purples in the light. I wore it sometimes, in the privacy of my room, but I couldn’t wear it out in public.  It revealed too much of me. 

I want to be more than this woman who worries about being exposed, who worries about her treacherous brain. 

I select a longer skirt, black with purple and green flowers.  My shirt doesn’t match, so I discard it for a longer, wine colored sweater. I look at myself in the mirror, nodding. I look like a school  marm , or my grandmother, but I feel comfortable being covered.  I glance at my bed, only to notice my favorite grey blanket is missing. I must have left it in the laundry room again; I’ll need to remember to go get it. 

I look at the makeup bag hanging on the back of my door-an acquisition to make myself look older.  I took it  off of the handle, plopping down on my bed and opening it . I didn’t gush over  makeup but I valued it as a tool.  I could paint my face and erase the bags underneath my eyes. I could contour my cheeks to look sharper, older. 

Make up could help me hide. 

I carefully selected complimentary colors-dark lipstick, darker blush and eye shadow. I eye the purple lipstick I bought on a whim, and decide that would be too much. I choose a more subdued shade instead; still bright, but not unreasonably so. I decide that being bold with my makeup can count toward Dr.  Holdo’s homework of dressing my age. When I’m done, I look strange. Stern but colorful. My phone vibrates and I look down to see a message from Finn. 

-Cash me outside, it says, and I roll my eyes. I stand, stopping long enough to debate on shoes. I decide on the black heels I bought but never wear. Walking in them feels awkward, but it’s something I’ve never done before. I consider it a small victory. 

I meet Finn in the foyer of the building. He’s dressed in a mesh  tanktop , and I feel my cheeks heat up at the sight of his dark expanse of skin. 

“Hey, peanut!” he says. “You look, um ,pretty.” 

“Thanks,” I say, tugging at my skirt. 

“Very mature. I’m underdressed,” he says with a soft smile. I smile back at him and teasingly ask, 

“Looking for some action?” 

“Always,” he says with a wink. He holds his arm out for me to take and I laugh. “I want to get a real catch tonight.” 

“You’d be a catch for anyone,” I say sincerely. It’s true-any one would be lucky to have him. He places his hand over his heart in mock embarrassment. 

“Let’s go catch our uber,  you big flirt!” 


	3. Kylo: Orbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo watches

**Kylo**

She’s leaning against the bar, talking to Finn. I wanted to get closer to her, to hear what she is saying, but it isn’t the right time. I watch her body language instead, how she goes from almost hugging herself to opening in Finn’s presence. She even laughs once, and I feel a bitter stab of envy. 

I want to talk to her, hear her view of the day’s events. I want to compliment her skirt; I watched as she picked it out, and I know how self-conscious she is about it by the way she keeps tugging at it.  I want to run my thumb over the lipstick smudged at the corner of her mouth. I imagine being the one she’s comfortable being around. I want to revel in her as she opens like a flower to the sun. I want to be her sun. 

I finger the cloth mask in my jacket pocket, trembling in anticipation. I’m not her sun; I’m her shadow. 

“Hey,” a voice breaks through my reverie. It’s so softly spoken that, at first, I can imagine it to be my Rey. But I turn to see a pretty blonde girl in a slip of a black dress. 

_ Ah, Kaydel,  _ I think. 

She smiles brilliantly, her hip leaning against the edge of my table. 

“Buy you a drink, handsome?” she says with a wink, as if my answer if already assured. 

“No, thank you,” I say. She shrugs and says, 

“I’ll be at the bar if you change your mind.” The way she saunters off assures me that I’m meant to change my mind. I watch her as she walks up to Finn and Rey. Rey immediately closes in on herself. I tut in sympathy-poor thing. Soon, she won’t have to worry about  Kaydel or Holdo or any of it. 

I am going to care for her completely.  I’m going to see to her every comfort and  desire, and she’ll stay with me in return. I yearned for her with an intensity that frightened me, ever since I first saw her. God, she looked so weak and fragile that first day-so unloved and uncared for. She was thinner then with darker bags underneath her ey e s. When her haunted eyes met mine  from  across the hallway , the y drew me into her orbit.  I wanted t o crash into her like a meteor  and give her new life. 

I’ve been watching her for an eternity-watching her comply with her treatment plan, se eing her work hard at her studies.  Watchi ng her  loneliness , her secret smiles, taking them all in as if they were meant just for me. I know she loves the Spring and Fall for the routine it brings. I know she struggles in the summer without school to keep her grounded. I know she loves poetry and valiant heroes and I want to be that for her. 

I’m self-aware enough to know my captivation is obsession but too far gone to care. I’ve been  unsteadied in her orbit for too long; it’s time to crash into her. 

I watch with hooded eyes as Finn tugs on her hand, a playfully pleading expression on his face. Rey looks out on to the dance floor, then to Finn. I see her resolve crack with a smile, and she nods. As they make their way out onto the floor, I follow them. 


	4. Rey: Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey doesn't do well with dark, crowded spaces

**Rey**

“Hey!” a voice  calls . I turn, and I feel my arms wrap around my chest.  Kaydel smiles  brilliantly at us. 

“Hey you!” Finn says, greeting her with a side hug. She hugs him back and smiles at me. 

“Rey,” she says politely. 

“H-hey, Kaydel,” I call over the music. 

“Guys, I want you to meet my study buddy from Psych!” She motions to someone in the group and people part like the red sea. A familiar mop of brown hair pops into my vision and my stomach drops.  _ Oh no.  _

_ “ _ Hey!” Poe greets, smiling like an old movie star. Finn’s eyes widen and I stare at Poe’s shoes-different from the ones he wore this afternoon. 

“Rey, right?” Poe asks, and I nod. Kind of him to pretend this is our first meeting. 

“Hi,” I say, my voice drowned out by the music. 

The music pounds in my ears like war drums. The lights flicker like angels at the edges of my vision. A tiny voice in the back of my head screams,  _ you shouldn’t have come.  _

Finn sits and talks with me as Poe and Kaydel lean against the bar, but he eyes the dance floor longingly. He takes my wrist, playfully jerking his head toward the dance floor. I sigh, then smile. 

“Do you want to dance?” I practically have to shout to be heard in the booming atmosphere of the club. Finn brightens, saying, 

“Hell yeah!” He hangs on to my wrist, leading me through the crowd. I see Poe and Kaydel follow us out of the corner of my eye. 

The floor is some sort of shining black linoleum- I keep my head down as Finn makes a way for us to the dance floor. I take deep breaths to steady myself.  _ Just a dance with a friend.  _ He leads me to the dance floor with an excited energy. A techno remix of a familiar but unremarkable song blares over the speakers. The way Finn moves shouts grace and freedom. He’s comfortable in his own skin. I stand, mesmerized watching him fluidly move his body while I just rock from side to side.  _ Just lose yourself in the beat,  _ I tell myself, though the thought of being lost terrifies me. 

I move my body in ways I’m unfamiliar with. I can’t shake the feeling that everyone is watching me, that a thousand eyes crawl over my skin. I feel as though I am on a stage, burning underneath a spotlight. 

_ Ignore it.  _

I dance and dance,  eyes closed,  twirling like a madwoman, and I can say that I  actually enjoy myself. 

Until I feel hands brushing my waist. 

My eyes snap open and I look around, my steps faltering. Everyone seems to be dancing in their own world. I look but I don’t see anyone close enough to touch me. The lights flicker erratically, mimicking my heartbeat and obscuring everyone around me. 

Maybe it was Finn? I look toward him to see him dancing with Poe. He catches my eye and gives me a jaunty wave. I smile, his cheer infectious. I take a deep breath, keeping my eyes open as I start dancing again. 

As I begin to move, I feel another light touch, this time on the small of my back. As if someone couldn’t help themselves when it came to  touching me. I spin around, but the people behind me are interested only in each other. My breath comes in uneven gasps; the room is too  crowded, too loud, too dark. 

I push myself through a sea of bodies, looking  for an escape.  An exit sign glitters, green and bright, in the corner of the room. I push myself into the night, taking deep breaths to calm myself. I hated myself for my weakness, for my abhorrence of touch that I craved so desperately. 

Someone just wanted to dance with me. I was a freak. 

The door opens beside me to reveal Finn, his brow furrowed with worry. 

“You okay?” he asks, and I love him for his concern. I shake my head and force a smile. 

“It was just a little too much,” I say. “I think I’d better go home.” 

“Okay,” he says. “Let me say bye to Kaydel and Poe and we can go.”

“No, no,” I say. “I can go by myself. You stay and have fun.” He eyes me critically, as if he was trying to see if I was lying or not. 

“You sure?” he asks eventually. I nod. 

“Yeah, it’s no big deal. Poe seems to really like you,” I smile, like everything is fine and Finn smiles back. I lie, like always 


	5. Kylo: Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's never been one to turn down an opportunity

**Kylo**

She leaves the club, and I watch her as she waits for an uber. She looks so vulnerable and upset that I regret reaching out to touch her. She had looked so free, so bright, out on the dance floor, and I was like a moth drawn to her flame. She’d felt right underneath my palms.  I never wanted to stop touching her. I start the car up; there’s no need to follow her. 

I know where she’s going. 

I sit in my car outside of her dorm, eating a burger, and watching the video feed I set up in her room. She enters some time later, kicking her heels off in an adorable huff. She begins tearing at her sweater, and I avert my eyes as she changes clothes. I’ve never seen her naked, but it’s taken  all of my self-control not to peek when I know she’s right there. 

My phone rings and I answer it, welcoming the distraction. 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s time.” Those two  ominous words tell me all I need to know about the operation proceeding.  I h ang up, watching her silhouette in her window. I glance back at the video to see she’s changed into sweatpants and a hoodie. She places her earbuds in her  ears, and leaves her room. I wait for her as she pushes open the door to the dorm and walks outside. As soon as her feet hit the pavement,  she takes off at an almost frantic jog. I watch, dumbly, as she jogs away from me. It’s 10’oclock, another deviation in her routine. This is my chance.

I would finally have her. 

I drive ahead of her, my hands trembling on the wheel as she doesn’t even look at me. I haven’t shaken during an op since I was green, freshly in the business. I guess I’m just that excited to have her. 

I pull into the alleyway around the corner from her and shut the car off.  I place the mask over my face and ready a rag with chloroform. I wait for her, swallowing thickly. I hear her footfalls as she rounds the corner. She’s  oblivious as she runs past me, and I snatch her out of the night. 

A scream wells up in her throat, and  I cut it off as I cover her mouth and nose with the rag.  My arm wraps around her waist. 

“Shh, Rey,” I whisper against her ear. The sound of her name ignites a fight in her that surprises me; she manages to break loose from my grip. She stumbles, her limbs heavy, and she lands against the wall. I’m right behind her, closing my arms around her and covering her face with the rag again. I hold her to my chest, my lips pressed against the side of her head. She slaps at the wall, her fingernails scratching the grout. I feel tears fall down her cheeks run over my fingers. 

“Shh,” I say, pressing my lips to her ear. “Shh.”  She whimpers once, slumping in my grasp. I pull the rag from her face, stuffing it in my pocket, and sweep an arm underneath her legs. I carry her bridal style back to the car, face against my chest as though she is just sleeping. 

I set her in the passenger seat. I reach for the zip ties in the cup holder and bind her wrists together. The sight of the zip tie digging into her skin makes my stomach churn, and I grab the blanket out of the backseat. I’d filched it from her room in a fit of impulse. I place a sleeping mask gently over her eyes; to anyone looking in, it would look like she was just sleeping away a  roadtrip . 

I gently brush hair away from her  face, and listen to her steady breathing. I get in the driver’s seat and start the engine; she doesn’t stir. She looks beautiful beside me, like she belongs there. 

I’m going to take care of her until this business with her father blows over. 


	6. Rey: Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes up, drugged

**Rey**

My mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. My head slightly pounds, a drumbeat against my skull, and there’s a crick in my neck.  I try to reach up to rub  it but my hands are bound together. I open my eyes only to see darkness. I can hear the soft hum of machinery; it sounds like I’m in a car. Soft notes of music flutter by my ears. 

“What?” I ask, my mouth heavy. I hear the rumble of the engine and feel the car pull to a stop. 

“Hey, Rey,” an unfamiliar voice says. 

“Where ‘ m I?” W o rds are so hard to form, like molten weights on my tongue. 

“Shh, you’re safe. Here,  have some water.” I feel the rim of a water bottle against my lips. I drink from it gratefully, not noticing the metallic after taste until several deep swallows later. 

“You -“  I say, my tongue a dead and useless thing. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. But we’re almost home.” 


	7. Kylo: Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo humors his delusions slightly

**Kylo**

“You -“ Her voice, though soften ed , is tempered with steel. I disliked drugging her , but I needed her docile as I transported her. I couldn’t drive and focus on subduing her at the same time. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. But we’re almost home.” I like the way that rolls off of my tongue. Home. As if the hideout could be a house that was both hers and mine. 

She screams, her rage echoing throughout the car. She pulls at her bonds so fiercely that I almost want her to break them. Instead, they cut into her wrists, drawing blood. She’s like a raging storm, beautiful in her anger. 

I caress her cheek. She turns, sloppily trying to bite me, and I smile. I keep touching her, petting her hair, as she fights and loses the battle against unconsciousness. Once she’s out, I pull the first aid kit from under the seat and cut her zip ties. The drugged water should be enough to keep her out until we reach the house. I tend to her wounds, bandaging her wrists and p ressing a kiss to each of them guiltily. 

She needs someone to care for her, and I need someone to care for. I’ve been in darkness for far too long. 


	8. Rey: Enter Captor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes in unfamiliar circumstances

**Warning: Rey fears sexual assault, but it's only briefly mentioned. No attack happens**

**Rey**

I wake, again to a pounding head, and bandages on my unbound wrists.  I’m lying on a bed that is not my own. Walls made of grey stone greet my vision. They’re covered sporadically by pictures: I stare at a replica of  _ La Belle Dame  _ _ sans _ _ Merci  _ until my vision clears. There’s pictures I’ve seen in art textbooks for class and quite a few nature scenes that adorn my own walls back at my dorm. The room is an L-shape, with wooden stairs leading up and a small, thin window in the bottom left corner of the room across from the bed.  Underneath that small window, there is a table and two chairs. A little further down the wall is a TV.  There’s a washer and dryer at the bottom of the L. 

_ Basement,  _ I think.  _ I’m in someone’s fucking basement.  _

I hear a door open and I push myself up. A man carrying a tray of food comes down the stairs. He brightens when he sees  me, and sets the tray down on the table. 

“Good. You’re awake,” he says warmly, his voice deep. I stare numbly at him. His black hair reaches his shoulders, looking feather light and soft enough to touch. He has a long face with an aquiline and commanding nose, and full lips pulled back in a smile. Brown eyes sparkle at me from underneath black bangs. 

Dear God, he’s _beautiful_ , like something out of a Pre- Raphaelite painting. 

I push myself  off of the bed and, stumbling, I reach the stairs. A wooden railing meets my hand and I pull myself onto the bottom step. An arm wraps around my waist. I whimper, trying to pull away. 

“Shh,” he says in the same tone as last night. It was last night, wasn’t it? My head, a boat under sunken water, can’t seem to remember. 

“Who are you?” I ask, pulling away from him. He lets me pull a bit away from him, but still keeps an arm firmly around my waist. I look up into his brown eyes, shining like the earth, volcanic eruptions in their midst. I trace the path of his nose, down to his lips, turned up in that same soft smile. 

“I’m your shadow, Rey,” he says. He sounds so earnest when he says it, like it’s some private joke between the two of us. His arm leaves my waist and a hand rests at my elbow. “Come eat. You’ve been asleep for hours.” 

“You drugged me,” I accuse. He nods. 

“Yes, I did. I didn’t like to do it.” Here, he fixes the intensity of those eyes on me. “It takes away your light.” He pulls the chair out for me, and I sit. He takes a bottle of water  off of the tray and sets it in front of me. I don’t take it. I am  loathe to trust anything this man, my captor, gives me. Because that is what this beautiful man is, isn’t he? 

My captor. 

He chuckles, opening the bottle and taking a gulp of water. He holds it out to me like a peace offering. 

“See? It isn’t drugged.” I don’t say anything, but snatch the bottle from his grasp. I look at the plate of food he sets in front of me. It’s spaghetti and meatballs, an old favorite of mine. The smell wafts up to my nose and it makes my mouth water. The last time I ate was before my appointment with  Holdo . I savagely take a bite of food, and then another. The man-Shadow?- brushes hair out of my face, as if he couldn’t help himself, and I freeze. I force myself to set the fork down. 

“Why am I here?” I ask. 

“I’ve brought you home,” he replies. “Think of it like a vacation. I’ve seen how hard you work at your studies. It’s nice to take a break. ”

“Why did you take me?” my voice shakes. He frowns, patting my hand. 

“Don’t focus on that now. Focus on getting full.” I turn back to my food, my stomach in knots, and force myself to eat. It tastes divine, homemade, and I wonder if he cooked it himself. He sits across the small, square table from me. There isn’t a lot of space; our knees touch. 

“We need to get you back on a routine,” he says, almost to himself. I freeze: sticking to a routine was part of my treatment plan. I begin eating again, reviewing what I know as he watches me with the same unnerving focus. 

I’ve been kidnapped. 

I’m in the basement of an unknown location. It’s getting dark: I can see the light fading from the little window. 

My kidnapper is not familiar to me but he knows at least a little about me. 

It isn’t a lot, but I hold it close to my chest because it is something. 

Once I’ve eaten every bite, he nods, as if satisfied, and takes the plate. He stands, offering me his hand. I stand, but don’t take it. His face falls a little at my rejection, and I  have to resist the urge to apologize. I follow him as he stops at the bed. I stop away from him, panicked.  Of course this is why he brought me here. He turns, noticing my panicked breathing. 

“It’s okay,” he says gently, as if trying to tame a frightened animal. “We’re not going to do anything. We’re just  gonna sit, okay?” I swallow, and nod in response. 

“Okay,” I say meekly. I let him lead me to the bed and I sit , eyeing him like a caged animal looks at the faces outside the bars . He wraps something around my shoulders and I flinch. I stiffen in surprise as a familiar scent , envelops me. 

It’s a blanket, taken from my bed. It’s soft, grey and familiar. He’s been in my dorm; numbly, I add it to the list of things I know. I watch him as he puts a movie on the TV. The Day the Earth Stood Still-another favorite. 

How long has he been stalking me?  I should have noticed something, anything- things out of place, eyes on my back.  But I never once suspected that brown eyes were watching me from the dark. 

I glance at his profile-strong, with rugged stubble across his high cheek and chin. Handsome at every angle, it seemed. 

The movie plays on the screen but I hardly see it. I want to speak but the words die in my throat. He looks at me throughout the movie, each of us watching the other. He smiles softly and gently holds my hand. His thumb rubs across my knuckles and I shiver. Does he think he’s being kind? I pull my hand away and cross my arms. His face falls, his brow furrowing, and I wonder what he was expecting. I find I don’t want to know. 

Once the movie ends, he stands. He offers his hand out to me again . 

“Come on,” he says. “Let’ s get you cleaned up.” My eyes move frantically from his hand to his face, and back to his hand. 

“Why did you take me?” I whisper again. “You’re handsome. Can’t you get a date?”  His brow furrows at that. He straightens a little , as if a little pleased despite himself. 

“Thank you. You’re very pretty too, you know,” he says softly. “But I don’t want anyone else.”  He holds his hand out again expectantly. I don’t take it. We stare at each other across the short expanse between us, his eyes locked on mine with an unnerving intensity. I can almost see sparks fly between us. 

_ Get it together,  _ I think. 

He keeps standing, and I have half a mind to make him stand there forever. But I am tired, and groggy, and know he won’t leave me alone until I do what he wants. I slip my hand into his, flinching as his fingers close around mine with a sort of finality. He nods to himself, and smiles at me. I remain silent, following h im as he leads me up the stairs. I see the front door and something primal ignite within me. I pull away from him, pushing past him to get to the fr o nt door. I take off running, tripping over unfamiliar furniture. My hands slam on the door, scrambling to undo the lock. A warm presence envelops my back. I look up to see him looking down at me. His brow draws together, and he looks almost pained. He leans down, his breath brushing past my cheek as he says, 

“You’re not leaving.” Tears well  up in my eyes as I  hit the door with the flat of my palm. 

“Let me go,” I whimper, hating myself. He gently shushes me, pulling me away from the door. I numbly follow as he leads me deeper into the house, and away from freedom. 

The house is a normal looking house. Pretty wall paper, nice furniture. It isn’t the kind of house you’d expect to be held captive in. The only oddity are the empty picture frames along the walls. He leads me to a bathroom.  He walks in, leaning over the bathtub to turn on the water. He’s coiled, like a predator, and his eyes stay locked on me as he prepares the tub. I lean against the wall, dizzy and aching, arms crossed around my middle. He walks past me and, as if he couldn’t stand not touching me, he rests a hand on my shoulder. He gives it a  soft squeeze, gently pushing me into the bathroom, and he locks me inside. Tears well up in my eyes so I look at the ceiling to keep them from falling. 

I  have to find a way to escape. 


	9. Kylo: Persistence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and the ominous phone call part 1

**Kylo**

She’s  persistent . 

I like that, even though I know it’ll mean trouble for me in the long run.  She’s spent hours tearing the little basement apart, looking for something she can use. She won’t find anything-I was thorough, and careful, when I prepared the basement for her. I watch her on the video feed, fascinated, as she works.

She looks behind the pictures  I ’d placed to make the room seem more like her home, trying to get a nail out with her fingers. She moves the washer and dryer. She kicks and slaps at the door, yelling obscenities that make me smile. It’s only when she gets to the window, just big enough to fit an arm through, that she breaks down and cries. I frown when she slides to the floor, her forehead against her knees. The last thing I want to do is make her cry and I want to go in and comfort her. But I know she needs to mourn the loss of her freedom. 

_ I’ll take care of her, _ I think. 

She looks so different, so small on the black and white screen. Seeing her in living color had been intoxicating, and I just want to bask in her presence. But she’d been frightened of me. I recalled the fear she’d shown when I’d led her to the bed. I’d never force her. I wanted her to want me even just a fraction as badly as I wanted her. 

Her first instinct had been to head for the doors. I had to make her feel safe and comfortable. That meant a routine, the first day of which would be the hardest. The rest of her things would be here tomorrow, and it would look like she’d move out of her dorm room. This would prolong or, hopefully, completely avoid someone reporting her missing. It was also one of the things that could help me pretend she was here with me of her own free will.

I pour myself two fingers of scotch, trying not to watch her cry. I swallow the guilt, along with the scotch. She had been doing so well before I stole her out of her life. She kept her appointments. She took her medicine (and would continue to do so while she was here). She made straight A’s in  all of her classes. I was proud of her. My phone rings, and I answer it on the second ring. 

“Do you have her?”  the voice on the other line asks. 

“Yeah, safe and sound.” 

“Good. We’re just waiting on her old man to pay the ransom. I’m not sure he’s going to pay.” If he didn’t pay the ransom,  that could mean trouble. 

“You ready to take care of her if that happens?” 

“I’ll take care of her,” I murmur into the phone. The other line clicks dead, and I place the burner phone next to the video feed. 

She’s gone to bed. I press my fingers to my lips and place them over her image, wanting her to feel me through the machinery. 


	10. Rey: Persephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo brings Rey wildflowers, and establishes a routine

**Rey**

Today, he brings me flowers when he brings me my medicine . 

They’re wildflowers, a bouquet of blue sage, orange cosmos and golden lupine. I take them almost longingly, remembering a time before Unkar, when other children and I would collect wildflowers. I caress the delicate petals, setting the vase down on the table for two. The vase overflows, like all he did was hours was pick flowers for me. 

He  keeps me to a schedule, just like he said he would. First, he takes me to a room to get dressed.  All of my things, scarce though they are,  have already been placed in the room. It’s a nice bedroom; peach walls , cherrywood bookshelves and a queen size bed. More of the pictures that line the walls of the basement are on the walls, as well as some of the pictures from my dorm. My heart sinks: surely no one would think I had just up and left in the middle of the semester with no warning? 

“Once you get adjusted, this can be your room,” he tells me. Today,  he locks the  door but I can hear him on the other side. He’s taken to timing me, to make sure that I don’t try to escape through the windows. I have five minutes to get dressed and, if he even so much as hears a  creak , he’s in the room like a shot. 

I tried the window the first couple of days, only to have him barge in and stay while I got dressed. He hadn’t looked, his back to me, but his presence was a reminder to not try to escape again. I needed more trust from him; if I could make him think I was obedient and docile, then I would have a better chance of  escaping. 

I pick something bright to wear , a yellow button up with blue jeans ; he responds better when I look bright, I’ve learned.  Once I’m dressed, he whistles appreciatively. 

“That’s a good color on you , ” he says kindly. I don’t say anything, but I force myself to smile at him and let him lead me back to the basement. Once I’m dressed, he leaves to get food. He brings me my meals at the same time-I start counting days by them.  It reminds me of  the hospital , though it ’ s obvious he’s working hard to make whatever this is comfortable.  He sits and eats with me, never failing to try and make conversation. I quit talking after day two,  and I learned that my silence upsets him, though he tries not to show it. 

Today, he feeds me bacon, eggs and  hashbrowns .  I poke at the eggs, made sunny side up, and  b egin to eat. He knows  all of my favorites. 

“How’d you sleep?” he asks.  I shrug listlessly; I’d been sleeping surprisingly well after the first couple of nights. Regardless of why I was here, he wasn’t going to hurt me. Otherwise, he’d have gotten it over with. 

At least, that’s what I tell myself. 

“I brought more movies,” he murmurs. “Books, too.” I try not to perk up at the idea of something new do .  After breakfast is  freetime until lunch. I usually watched one of the movies he’d brought me or tried to read one of the books while planning my escape. 

“Rey?” he says quietly. I stop, turning to look at him. He shifts, as though nervous, from foot to foot. He looks at me almost shyly. 

“Can I b rush your hair?”  The request makes my heart beat faster. He hadn’t been untoward at all, though he did touch me. A  pat on my shoulder, fingertips across my wrist. He touched me as if he didn’t mean to, and whenever he noticed his eyes got dark and his brow furrowed.  He’s never asked to touch me before. Swallowing, I see my chance to gain his trust. I nod, and sit back in the chair, facing away from him. I hear him sigh, pleased, as he seats himself and begins to brush my hair. I  have to bite back a moan of pleasure as he brushes my hair . I shiver as he buries his fingers in my hair, first just idly touching but then with a purpose. He slowly braids my hair, as though savoring it. 

“I used to do this for my mother,” he says quietly. 

“You have a mother,” I say, the first full sentence I’ve spoken in a week. I hear the smile in his voice at the sound of mine. 

“Leia,” he says. “We haven’t talked in a while. I haven’t had the time.” 

“ So she doesn’t know you kidnap girls on the side.” To my surprise, he laughs. I feel his hands gently tug my hair into place.

“No, that particular hobby has never come up.” Here, he pats my newly braid hair. He leans in, next to my ear, and whispers.  “And it’s just the one.”  He stands, and I stand to follow him. 

“Just the one what?” I ask. H e leads me to the mirror.  I look at the myself in the mirror. I don’t look like I’ve been kidnapped; if anything, I look hale, even if my tan is fading a little.  Wild flowers adorn my hair, the braid falling past the shoulders. I feel exposed, held in front of the mirror with Shadow behind me.  He looms behind me, Hades who weaved flowers into my hair. Though he doesn’t touch me, I can feel the heat of him behind me and I shudder. 

The dark hunger reflected in his eyes threatens to consume me. 


	11. Kylo: Small Victories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo feels triumphant

**Kylo**

Today is a victory. 

It’s the first time in a week that she’s talked to me. She usually won’t talk to me.  She goes about her day, watching movies or reading books, and I have no idea what she’s thinking. Sometimes, she acts like I haven’t taken her, like I’m not even here. The silence is enough to drive me mad. 

Now, she’s reading one of the new books I bought her. I should really be doing anything else besides watching her, but I sit in the chair across the room and watch her read. She’s expressive: I can almost follow the story based on the faces she makes.  She idly plays with her braid as she reads, and my hands ache to touch her again.  I want her to talk to me again, or even look at me, but she doesn’t so much as glance in my direction.  I’m planning on giving up and going back upstairs when she says quietly, 

“This is a good book you’ve brought me. Thank you .” I flush with pride, having pleased her. 

“What’s it about?” 

“A boy who goes in search of adventure, only to find the great evil he’s been fighting is his father.” She turns another page, curled up around her blanket as the sun shines through her little window. I want to change the sunbeams across her skin with my hands, and then my teeth. She smiles at me, the first genuine expression I’ve seen from her besides fear, anger or boredom. She pats the bed next to her. 

“Do you want to sit next to me?’ she asks , other hand twisting in her braid . “That chair can’t be too comfortable.”  I’m there before she’s finished talking. I look down at her,  sitting down, as her eyes lock onto mine. 

I’m exactly where I want to be. 


	12. Rey: Off the Edge of a Cliff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey almost lose control

**Warning: dubious consent, possible offensive language**

**Rey**

He touches me like he’s starved for i t-finger tips lightly touching the skin of my arm, trailing down as if afraid I’ll jerk away. I sit and let him touch me-it isn’t wholly unpleasant.  When I asked him to come sit next to me, he could  hardly contain himself. I struggle to keep my breathing calm as he looks at me, eyes dark, and touching me as if in silent supplication.  I sigh as he caresses my wrist, and I let my hand fall into his. 

Here is what I know: 

I’ve been kidnapped. 

My captor is touch-starved , and he has feelings for me. 

If he has feelings for me, then I can use that to my advantage. 

I can escape. 

I hear  him suck in a breath as the back of my hand touches his palm.  Quickly, as if he couldn’t stand it, he grabs my hand and holds it tightly. I pretend to be engrossed in the book he’s brought me . My breath hitches when he rubs a thumb over my knuckles but, otherwise, I don’t show any other reaction. 

He moves toward me cautiously, as though I were an animal to be tamed.  In a way, I suppose I was. He had captured me from the wild, and that wildness was still in me. 

I would have my freedom. 

I lay my head on his shoulder like a  good,  docile pet.  He stiffens,  his sharp intake of breath echoing in my ears, and I wonder if I misjudged why I was here.  Then, he relaxes against me with a sigh. 

Oddly, this sort of weirdly domestic human contact feels nice after a week  with nothing but scarce, fearful touches.  I steal a glance at him only to find that he’s already looking at me.  I lick my lips nervously, and his eyes drop down to my mouth. 

There’s an electricity between us, something dangerous, and I’m afraid to move . His expression is torn, like he’s warring with himself, and I whimper at the  intensity.  Hot breath across my lips is the only warning I get of what is to come. 

Lighting strikes and, s uddenly, he’s invading my senses.  His lips crash onto mine, swallowing my cry of surprise.  Normally, he asks for permission, whether with words or body language. He hasn’t ever taken until now.  I shift, heat pooling between my thighs at the thought. 

He groans into my mouth, his hands gripping my hips almost to the point of pain. His hand slides up my side, brushing my breast, and he tangles his hand in my hair. 

I pull away and he makes and almost needy sound, wanting to follow but keeping his distance. I’m heady on the control I have over him.  He may have taken me out of my life, but now I have power over him.  His forehead rests against mine. 

“Fuck,” he whispers.  His hands move to the front of my shirt,  and I feel a rush of both panic and arousal. 

“Wai -“ I start, but a loud ripping noise interrupts me.  He tears my shirt open, exposing my chest to him. All I can hear is the clink of the buttons echoing in my ears as they scatter. He moans, a keening , almost desperate sound, and buries his face in the crook of my neck. I feel him panting above me.  His lips press to my skin as his hands caress my stomach, almost as if in silent apology.  I feel truly imprisoned between his arms as he shudders above me. 

Suddenly, I’m shoved back as the rest of my shirt is ripped from me.  I scramble to sit up, only able to sit up part way because he is still above me. My shirt, torn to shreds, is clenched in his fist.  He is paused above me, expression warring between lust and apology. I shift,  the heat almost unbearable in the face of that look .  We stay, frozen, looking at each other, and wait for the other to move.  He pushes himself away from me, almost fleeing the room.  He slams the door behind him, and I  hear the sound of a body slumping against it. 

I creep out of the bed, footsteps light, and force myself up the stairs to the door. I check the knob-it’s locked. Of course. I press my ear against the door and can hear his muffled panting. A low moan greets me and I shift, the heat scorching me. Another moan sounds out, and I’m being burned alive. If I concentrate, I can hear the slick sound of flesh against flesh. I’d encountered sex before now, and it was a leading decision to leave Unkar’s. I’d been disgusted then. 

I wasn’t now. 

I close my eyes to focus on the sound of him. He’s groaning, almost like he’s using something to muffle himself.  My hand slips easily into the waist band of my slacks. I’m already wet, soaked through my panties. I’ll analyze and over analyze my reaction later; for now, I had to take care of this need coursing within me.  My fingers find my clit, and I rub myself in time with his breathing.  I imagine that its his hands on me, and not my own. The thought makes my pussy clench. 

I’m a needy, desperate thing, and for once outside of my own head. 

It’s electric, the pleasure I feel. Both soft and almost punishing. I muffle a cry as pure sensation rolls over me, panting deeply as I slide down the door. I listen to him finish, a barely repressed cry of my name.

What had I just done? I should, by all rights, be frightened. I’d been taken  captive, and kissed with a frightening fervor by my kidnapper. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his restraint, that maybe he cared beyond his seeming obsession with me. If this were the cliff of Stockholm Syndrome, then I was about to tumble over the edge. I couldn’t do that; I couldn’t lose control of the situation. I run a hand through my hair, watching my arm tremble. 


End file.
